Bat Out Of Hell
by Secretlyademigodinthetardis
Summary: My AU of the Season 5 finale 'Swan Song'. Songfic thing using 'Bat Out Of Hell' by Meatloaf - listen to it while reading if it helps, one of my favourite songs. Destiel, obviously, because I am incapable of writing anything else apparently. Slight smut, please review, let me know what you think please!


**AN: First ever songfic! AU for 'Swan Song'.**

**Meatloaf's 'Bat Out of Hell' was written by Jim Steinman.**

**EDIT: I've just been informed that by putting the lyrics to Bat Out of Hell throughout this I broke one of the rules of publishing here, so I took them out and I hope it's okay now. I feel kind of stupid after that, so please if I've done anything else wrong let me know asap so I can fix it. But basically if you listen to the song while reading this it makes more sense.**

It begins as it always does with the Winchesters, with their car.

The Impala tore down the highway through the desert valley, desperate to reach her destination. Behind the wheel, a green eyed, blond haired man scowled at the horizon, dreading what tomorrow would bring.

.

.

.  
_  
_

Flashbacks of the future showed a garden, where another copy of himself faced off with the Devil, who ended it by simply snapping his future self's neck before meeting the younger copy's eyes.

And tomorrow, he would have to avoid that future, of a devastated planet, of the Apocalypse, by helping his brother leap into Hell.

.

.

.

The evening slowly turned into night, and the stars were emerging as Dean coasted through the town, searching for a place to stay the night.

His last night before he sent his own brother to Hell.

.

.

.

Dean thought back to his and Sammy's childhood. Helping teach Sam how to drive, sitting in all those different motel rooms, finding Sam at Stanford, helping Sam get through high school, practically every single memory Dean had was of Sam, or helping Sam somehow.

And, more recently, Castiel. Cas.

.

.

.

Dean turned to the angel that had appeared next to him, not bothering to feign surprise anymore. His hard gaze softened as deep blue eyes met his own, and a brief smile touched his lips before he sighed. Right now, Cas was the only one that could make him smile. His best friend. And…something more. Dean didn't know exactly how he felt towards the angel, but he knew it was definitely crossing over from the 'best friends' territory and putting a tentative foot – not even a foot, a toe – into the "I would dearly love to spend the rest of my life with you and forget about this stupid Apocalypse so we can just make love until the end of time".

Okay, so maybe a bit more than a toe. Like, a leg.

.

.

.

Cas sighed in response, turning his gaze to the window. The Impala pulled into the parking lot of the motel that the angel had caught sight of, engine rumbling until Dean cut it off. In silence, the two checked in and made their way to the twin room they had booked, ignoring the raised eyebrows and winks of the guy who had made their booking. Once in the room, Dean turned to look at Cas, and suddenly he was tired of trying to dampen down how he felt. Hell, last night on Earth before the Apocalypse, nothing to lose, right?

.

.

.

Cas looked at Dean, and before he knew what he was doing, Dean surged forward and his mouth was on Cas', tongue begging for entrance, hands desperately clutching at the one thing that kept him from going insane at the thought of his brother sacrificing himself. Cas responded in kind, body moulding to Dean's as they fell to the bed. Both men groaned as their hips rutted against one another, and Dean was able to let out a gasp as Cas' lips moved from his mouth to his neck, kissing, licking and biting until Dean was a shaking mess beneath him.

How the hell had they not been doing this the whole time? Why hadn't Cas told him how he felt?

Okay, so maybe Dean had completely checked out of the 'best friends' zone. Maybe he'd gotten his passport stamped and bought a one way ticket to "marry me, screw the Apocalypse, screw everything" land.

.

.

.

Dean knew this was their only chance for this, and he knew that Cas would be gone in the morning. Like Dean would be. The door to Hell had to be opened, and Cas had to do damage control while Dean sent his brother to the Pit. So he forgot everything, losing himself within the tight heat of Cas, watching the angel throw his head back as he rode the hunter, before dragging Cas' head down for one desperate kiss as he let himself go in unison with the being he had accidentally let himself love.

.

.

.

.

_The next day_

It was done. Sam had jumped into the pit, taking Lucifer, Michael and Adam with him, and Dean was alone. Again. Bobby went back to Sioux Falls, and Dean had no idea where Cas was. Probably something awesome, knowing him. He lost himself in the memory of last night, refusing to even think about the loss of his baby brother before he couldn't drive anymore. Shaking, he pulled over and buried his head in his hands as he wept.

.

.

.

The sun set, taking away the day's warmth. Once again, the stars and the moon lit up the sky. However, this time, they shone down on a world without Sam. A Dean who was now more broken than ever, and lost without the only blood relative he had left. No more prank wars, no more insults, no more _brotherhood._

Dean raised his head, and prayed to the only person he could think of who he could have by his side.

.

.

.

There was no answer. Dean was hardly surprised, considering the fact that Heaven must be in tatters from the loss of Michael _and_ Gabriel. But it still would have been nice to see that face. With those innocent, wide blue eyes and that goddamn smile that shone out from beneath his dark, permanently messy hair. Another sigh, and Dean climbed back into the Impala, gunning the engine and taking off once more. He didn't want to sleep that night. He knew he'd dream of Sam and the look on his face as he sacrificed himself for the planet. Which was saved. Good thing, right? No more monsters, no more demons, no more Lucifer. Happy planet, and all Dean had was his Baby and the open road.

Great.

.

.

.

Where the Hell was he? Dean looked around. He'd been driving all night, and the sky had subtle hints of being about to start to lighten. All he could see for miles was scrub and dry grass. Aside from that, nothing. Nothing but him and the barren road that stretched out before and behind him, leading to nothing and bring him from nothing. What did he have to live for, now? Nothing.

.

.

.

Dean remembered Hell. He remembered the feeling of a thousand knives slicing into his skin, and needles being shoved down his throat. He remembered resigning himself to his fate, and knowing he was damned for all eternity. But the worst thing he remembered was picking up the torture instruments himself, and taking out the pain, self-loathing and hate on other souls. He could never forgive himself. He knew that he could never get out of Hell, but what he also knew was that even if he did get out, he would probably end up right back in there again. And it was that thought that had made him slice into others, and that now threatened to plunge him into a mix of despair and twisted joy. At least in Hell, he'd maybe see Sammy again.

.

.

.

But the one thing that kept him going through all this, and that dragged him back from the edge of simply calling it quits and doing his best to join Sam down there instead of bringing him back to Earth, was the memory of being brought out of Hell. A single, pure light reaching through the screams and torture racks, straight to Dean. A glowing hand that laid itself upon his shoulder, leaving a mark on his soul, body and heart. No eyes or face or hair, because he hadn't taken his vessel yet. Just a wave of celestial light, pulling Dean from the darkness and back home.

Dean had lied when he said he didn't remember being saved from Hell. He remembered it all too well.

He just could never figure out _why._

.

.

.

He was miles from any form of human habitation. No one knew he was here, and no one would find him. Dean decided that here, in the backseat of the one place he could call home, was as good a place as any to finally sleep. He was exhausted – from stopping the Apocalypse, from losing Sammy, Cas and Bobby, and from driving non-stop all night to the middle of nowhere.

Except when it got to it, he couldn't shut his mind off to sleep.

Dammit.

.

.

.

The Impala. The only thing he could actually count on as reliable. No matter what happened, he would have her. He'd rebuilt her, over and over, and knew her inside out. Nothing else was as attuned to him, nothing else….

Apart from Cas, that is.

Dean cursed as he remembered that Cas had, indeed rebuilt him. Cas knew him inside out. Cas and the Impala, the only standbys Dean had, now that Sammy had jumped. But Cas had disappeared.

.

.

.

Dean knew it had been their only chance to be together. He'd known it before, he'd known it during, and he knew it now. Why did he feel like this? It wasn't as if they'd made any promises, or had even mentioned the possibility of another round, let alone a future. It had been freaking Judgement Day, for Christ's sake. Hell, they'd barely spoken the morning after they'd made lov – no, _had sex._ If he started thinking about it in any way other than a one night bang, Dean knew he'd go insane.

.

.

.

Cas had just….left, kissing Dean briefly on the mouth before thanking him and disappearing to do God-knows-what in Heaven. Dean hadn't seen him until later, when he'd Molotov'd Michael, been blown up by Lucifer, and then been brought back. He'd healed Dean and left without another word.

.

.

.

But the least he could've done was come back that night to maybe, I don't know, tell Dean it meant nothing to him? Help Dean mourn the loss of his family? Give Dean some idea what to do? Despair clawed its way up through his stomach, gripping his heart and extinguishing any hope he had left. There was nothing left to live for. Dean scowled as he muttered Cas' name over and over, voice rising to a primal scream as he pressed his foot harder on the accelerator, not caring whether he lived or died anymore.

.

.

.

There was nothing, nothing but the road, nothing but the tyres rolling over and over, faster and faster as the sound of the engine drowned everything else out with a thunderous roar. The landscape slid past faster than Dean could register, his tears blurring his vision. Their names pounded themselves into his brain, leaving room for nothing else.

_Sam._

_Cas._

_Gone. _

_**Forever.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

There was a bend in the road, taking it away from the sudden drop that any traveller would otherwise fall into. Screaming out Sam and Cas' name, fraught with grief and loss, Dean didn't register the road ahead.

The Impala launched over the edge, falling into what felt like a bottomless abyss before it reached the all too real hard ground below. Anyone watching would've said it was as if a meteorite had fallen to earth as the wreckage burst into flame.

Then I'm down at the bottom of a pit in the blazing sun  
Torn and twisted at the foot of a burning' bike

Dean crawled out of the one thing he had left that was now destroyed, the shock numbing the pain from his injuries. The sun rose far too quickly, illuminating the scene. The golden rays of light cast an air of eerie beauty over the dying hunter and his flaming home.

.

.

.

Dean coughed, noting distractedly that it was in fact blood that came flying out of his mouth. He realised that he was about to die. At least he might see Sammy again. At least he wouldn't have to live alone. Without Cas. He summoned the energy to roll over onto his side, giving himself one last look at his beloved Impala. His heartbeat began to slow, and Dean's vision dimmed.

.

.

.

There was a faint glow, and his sight started coming back. The thumping in his ears began to speed up, resuming its steady thumping that had almost abandoned him forever.

.

.

.

Dean looked up. There was a familiar trench-coat wearing man standing in front of him, completely haloed by the sun. Was it the sun? Dean's fuzzy mind couldn't tell.

_._

_._

An arm, outstretched, placing itself gently on his cheek and bringing clarity back to his thoughts while his body was repaired. The shadow of huge wings that disappeared, along with the bright light that shone from within Dean's saviour. The man collapsed from the loss, before bringing his hand up to his own face, and looking from it to Dean with an expression of wonder.

.

.

Another silhouette, this one unbelievably tall, with hair that Dean had made fun of for being too long.

.

.

Dean stood up, reached out, and pulled his baby brother into a hug.

.

.

He turned and looked at the man that had first raised him, then his brother, out of Hell, through the sheer strength of his love for the Righteous Man, before hauling the angel towards him and kissing him as if his very life depended on it. He released him, looked into his eyes, and said the words he should have said so long ago, not caring that his newly-resurrected brother was standing right there.

.

.

.

"Cas, you idiot. I love you."

Castiel, Former Angel of the Lord ('former' as in 'was until five minutes ago'), smiled at his human before replying.

"Dean, I love you too."

**AN: Thoughts? **

**I hate to be like one of those annoying people that explains their own joke, but yeah. Basically Cas was brought back with enough mojo to heal Dean, bring back Sam, and heal Dean (again), but now he's full-blown human because he fell to be with Dean. In case I hadn't explained it well enough. **

**Sorry, enough from me. Continue with your lives!**


End file.
